“Come on in,” Sergio says, sitting straight. He looks Massimo up and down. “You come for the dishwashing job, bro? Or is it like costume day at school or something?”
With his toes, he pushes a stool an inch toward Massimo. My brother does not sit. He just leans on his false cane.
“You look sexy as fuck, babycakes,” Sergio says to me.
I don’t look sexy as anything, and I don’t thank him.
He turns to Massimo. “What are we gonna do with her?”
“Whatever I say,” Massimo replies.
I could argue, because I’m going to do whatever I say, but it’s not a good time to pull the rug from under these guys.
“Sure, big guy. How’d that leg end up like that? She shoot you?” Sergio chuckles at the absurdity of the idea.
Massimo lets him trail off without answering, leaving the laughter hanging uncomfortably.
“This is my family, Agosti.” I didn’t know Massimo had it in him to make five words into such a threat, but the menace is there.
Sergio’s lips pucker for a moment and he looks away, then he gathers himself with a shrug.
“That’s it?” He takes a remote control from the bar. “You’re just like my fucking dad. No, ‘Good job holding shit down while I was off doing whatever’ or, ‘Thanks for catching this guy’? Nah. Never good enough.”
He points the remote at a bank of screens behind the bar. I’d see TVs like this through the windows. They usually had sports or what I now know is the news.
Now, when they flicker on, they show a man. I gasp. Even seeing only the top of his head, I know it’s Dario.
He’s pacing a tiny room, slightly bent at the waist as if he’s injured. His energy comes through the camera like a physical thing. He’s a tiger, newly captured, used to the wild, ready to lunge at the first fleshy thing within reach.
The force of his captivity presses against me. I am him. The bar is too small for me. I need to pace it—corner to corner—calculating the dimensions of my territory so that I can smash whatever’s holding me inside it.
My anger isn’t useful. It’s a jackhammer pumping the air. I cannot quiet it, but I cannot let it touch the ground.
I loosen my clenched fists and rub my hands together. The palms are bone dry.
“You’ll be paid,” Massimo says from far away.
I am in Dario’s world. Everything’s closing in on me. I can’t think with him turning circles inside five glowing rectangles.
“Right,” Sergio says. “Thing is—”
“Shut them off,” I say.
“Am I done talking, lovemuff?”
“She talks when she wants,” Massimo growls. “She is the first daughter, and she told you to shut them off.”
Sergio pauses, puckers again, glances at Raymond, then Marco, then flips the remote, catching it button-side-up.
“I remember you at Armistice Night.” He clicks a button. The screens go black. “Un-fucking-forgettable in that slutty red dress with Lucari letting you stand in the rain. Not even a fucking umbrella.” He looks at me with a regretful hunger, as if picturing the wet fabric sticking to my body.
“Ray,” Massimo barks, “pull the car around. We’re going back to Precious Blood.”
Ray hesitates. Looks at Sergio, who’s got his eyes on me, then back at Massimo, whose expression I can’t see. Whatever it is, it makes Ray run out the back.
“That dress was my idea,” Sergio continues as if Massimo didn’t just get Ray to leave.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“The lady on the bed? With that flat hole they left between her legs? My idea to put her in that dress. The Scots, they used to knit secret messages into sweaters, but that message?” He shakes his head. “No knitting required. Peter loved it. Dad of the year, don’t you think? Anyway. You looked better in it.”
“You’re disgusting.” My insult sounds desperate. I have nothing to threaten him with. No power. No weapon. He has Dario and all I have is a brother who won’t be traded.
“And you’re what?” Sergio gets off the stool. “Defiled is what you call it? By an outsider? You guys take that pretty serious. Word gets around. Who knows what your people will do to you.” He faces Massimo. “Am I right or am I right?”
My brother hands me the broom handle and walks without support. I can’t imagine the pain, but he takes those steps as if nothing has ever—or ever will—hurt him and crowds Sergio against the bar.
“You’re a worthless outsider.” Massimo’s murmur has the force of truth. “You don’t decide what happens to Sarah Colonia. You’re nothing. We’ll string you from the ceiling and bury you where no one can find you—right next to the outsider who murdered my father.”
These men are engines of death with fuel tanks full of revenge. All of them. I can’t even stop it. The panic shooting through me leaves my muscles paralyzed and brittle.
“Kill him if you gotta.” Sergio takes half a step back. “But if you do me… well, you can have a war with the Agostis if you want, but my dad didn’t pick Ettore for his sweet disposition if you know what I mean.”
Ray returns through the back door.
“I’m not afraid of your family.” Massimo leans in closer to Sergio, putting a hand on the bar to steady himself.
Meanwhile, somewhere behind those black screens, Dario’s still pacing.
“Look, I’m just laying out the facts. You people already left a promise on the table. Signed and sealed. Dad to dad.” Sergio juts his chin toward me. “Lucari’s in the way.”
He’s talking about the marriage promise. I’m back, so it can be fulfilled once Dario’s dead. They don’t care if I love him. No amount of begging and pleading will save his life. I don’t care what happens to me after that. If a man doesn’t own me, they can broker a deal for me to marry Sergio. They can hollow me. They can kill me. It doesn’t matter. If Dario’s dead, it just doesn’t matter.
“I need him alive.” I blurt.
They both turn toward me.
I point at the blank screen behind the bar. “He took me. He stole me from my family and the only life I ever knew. He’s a monster, and you promised I could spit in his face.” I’m not being taken seriously. “Once he’s dead, I won’t be a man’s wife. If no one owns me and you decide I’m a traitor, you’re going to hollow me.”
“Stop it.” Massimo waves off my concern. “I won’t let that happen.”
“That’s the rule and you know it. Even with you at the head of the table, that’s the rule. And it’s not like there’s another Colonia family who’ll have me now. I’m a ruined traitor.”
They can do it to me. I’ll never be his.
“Sarah!” My brother barks my name, annoyed with this female distraction. “I’ll take care of it.”
“He did that to me.” My voice hits so high it breaks. “I deserve what I came here for.”
Sergio is stock-still for a moment before he holds up his hands, palms facing each other, and brings them together with a loud clap. He does it again and again… slowly applauding. “Brava, muffin. Really. I’d like to see for myself just how much of a badass you are. Assess the value of my investment. Tell you what. I’ll go with you to see him.”